


Every Breath You Take

by Python07



Series: Dead Gangsters and Other Love Tokens [2]
Category: Batman (1966)
Genre: Drug Use, Drug-enabled masturbation, Dubious Consent, Jack Napier is creepy., M/M, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:05:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to It's Hard to Say Goodbye -- Clancy's bad day continues and Jack is being creepy -- Extra guest villains: Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Breath You Take

Clancy woke slowly to a pounding in his head and a cotton taste in his mouth. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry. It seemed like forever before he could open his eyes.

He couldn’t focus at first. He blinked a few times and the cracked ceiling came into hazy focus. He barely turned his head to the side to see faded purple walls and those crying clown pictures Jack liked so much (Personally, they gave him the willies). He squeezed his eyes shut again and covered his face with his arm. “Jack?”

He forced himself up to a sitting position. He propped his back up against the wall. That’s when the slight chill in the air alerted him to his state of complete undress. “All right,” he muttered.

He looked down at himself. “Your memory may be Swiss cheese right now but it’s plain enough that something happened.” He put his head back and sighed heavily. “Jack, you little shite. You always know just what to do to get under me skin.” He closed his eyes and continued to berate himself and Jack under his breath.

“Time to get movin’,” he told himself out loud.

The world started spinning as soon as he got up. He planted a hand on the wall and shut his eyes. He just concentrated on breathing until the wave of vertigo passed.

He stumbled to the bathroom. He leaned on the sink and started the cold water. He ducked close to drink straight out of the tap. Then he splashed his face several times and shook his head. He ran wet fingers through his hair to tame the bed head.

He grabbed a nearby towel to dry his face. Then he took a deep breath to look at himself in the mirror. He frowned at his bloodshot eyes and the hickeys and bite marks on his throat and chest. He half turned to see the scratches on his back. “As if there was really any doubt. Still, I don’t feel right. Why can’t I remember and why do I feel like I’ve been on a three day bender?”

He turned away from his reflection and went back into the main room. He found his uniform in a pile on the floor and quickly dressed. He doubted he had the coordination for the tie, stuffed it in his pocket, and left the top couple buttons of his shirt open.

He patted his pockets and growled, “Shite stole Da’s pocket watch. Dear Lord, why did you ever curse me with him?”

He had no desire for the confinement of his uniform jacket and hat. He simply carried them when he slipped out the back fire escape. He found his police car exactly where he left it in the alley.

He threw the jacket and hat into the back seat before he dropped into the driver’s seat. He left the driver’s door open. He grabbed the mic for his car radio. “Dispatch.” His brogue was at its thickest and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and deliberately changed his speech so that people other than residents of the Little Ireland neighborhood could understand him. “711 to dispatch.”

“Go ahead 711,” a competent voice answered immediately.

Clancy rubbed the back of his neck. He was still so hot and achy. “Patch me through to the MCU.”

“Clear.”

Clancy rested his forehead against the steering wheel. “Just breathe.”

“O’Hara!”

Clancy jerked up to a sitting position. “Lieutenant Gordon.”

“Where have you been?” Gordon demanded. “You haven’t checked in since yesterday morning. Did you talk to Napier?”

“Yeah,” Clancy answered. “I…” his voice trailed off. “I…I can’t think.”

Gordon’s voice softened in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“I think he drugged me.”

“You can’t cover for him anymore. Where are you? What’s his address? I’m coming to get you.”

Clancy shut his eyes tightly. “It’s…my memory’s a jumble. Blast it,” he snarled in frustration.

“Sergeant,” Gordon said firmly. “Stop and take a breath. It’ll come back to you.”

Clancy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He opened his eyes. “1225 Laurel Street. Jack rents the flat above the Laurel and Hardy joke shop.”

“Is he there?”

Clancy looked around the deserted street. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m on my way. Stay there.”

“Will do.” Clancy put the mic back on its hook. He put his head back against the seat. His eyes slid closed and he started to drift without realizing it.

He snapped to attention when something poked his shoulder. He looked at the man standing right outside of his car pointing an umbrella at him. The man was short with pasty skin, slicked back black hair, a pointed nose, and a cigarette dangling from his lips. The man was flanked by two large fellas the size of linebackers. They could’ve been twins with identical stupid looks on their faces except one was blonde and one was brunette.

The man gave a cold, charming smile. “Forgive me for startling you, but are you Sergeant O’Hara?”

Clancy eyed them suspiciously. “Yes, who wants to know?”

“I just wanted to be certain.”

Clancy didn’t have time to react before an orange gas erupted from the end of the umbrella. He slumped against the seat and everything went black.

“What now, Penguin?” the blonde linebacker asked.

Oswald Cobblepot glared. “I told you not to call me that, Snares.” He pointed his umbrella at Snares. “Do you remember what happened to the last idiot who called me that?”

Snares blinked and looked at him with wide eyes. “But I thought you liked the name. You said yesterday that you’re a fishy kind of bird and that’s why you hate the heat.”

Oswald flicked his cigarette at Snares’ chest. “Why don’t you shut your beak?”

“What now, Mr. Cobblepot?” the other one chimed in hurriedly, stepping in front of his friend.

“You should pay attention to Rockhopper, Snares,” Oswald said menacingly. He stepped back out of the way and pointed back to Clancy. “Take him and let’s go before that other do-gooder Gordon shows up.”

Snares frowned in confusion. “I thought you wanted him too. The contract is for both of them, right? That’s what Old Man Falcone said.”

“Yes,” Oswald answered through clenched teeth. “But the confrontation will take place at a time and place of my own choosing.”

“But won’t Gordon bring half the department with him?”

Oswald rolled his eyes and regarded Snares as he would a slug. “If he does, he won’t see his partner on the straight and narrow alive again.”

“Are we taking him to the old Pingviini canning plant by the river?”

“Yes,” Oswald hissed. “Would you like to say that a little louder? The rest of the city hasn’t heard you.”

Rockhopper elbowed Snares. “Quit while you’re ahead.” He took Clancy’s arm and easily pulled him out of the car and over his shoulder.

“Silence, both of you.” Oswald briskly turned on his heel and started for the next side street. “Let’s go.”

None of them knew that Jack was watching from the roof across the street. He bared his teeth and followed them over the rooftops. He hurried down the fire escape of the building next to Oswald’s car. He hid behind the corner and peeked around to see them put Clancy in the trunk.

He waited until the car pulled off before grabbing the biggest rock from the alley and stepping onto the street. He ran to the nearest vehicle which happened to be a beat up an old blue pick up truck. He turned his face away and smashed the driver’s side window with the rock.

He slid onto the floor beneath the driver’s seat. He popped the panel under the steering wheel. He efficiently stripped two of the wires and twisted them together.

The engine sputtered to life and he cackled happily. He jumped into the seat and threw the truck into gear. He stomped the gas pedal and the truck lurched forward.

He approached the Gotham River district from a different direction. He made a quick stop at an old friend’s for some supplies. “You’re a lifesaver, Eddie.”

Edward Nygma cackled. “No problem. Do you need me to come along?”

Jack laughed. “No. Osy only has two goons with him. I can handle this on my own, but there is one more thing you can do.”

“What?”

“Give me ten minutes and then call the police for an anonymous tip off. Talk to Lieutenant Gordon at the MCU only and tell him to get a squad over to the old Pingviini canning plant if he wants the guys Old Man Falcone hired to get rid of him and Sergeant O’Hara.” 

“Will do.”

“One more thing, Eddie,” Jack laughed some more. “No riddles. I need them to be there.”

Edward pouted but nodded. “Fine. No riddles.” He brightened again immediately. “Oh, and nice suit. Purple is you.”

Jack straightened his clothes and preened. “Thank you, Edward.”

“What would you think of a green suit with giant question marks all over it?” Edward asked eagerly.

“Could work. I’ll give you the name of my tailor. He’s a genius but he listens to the customer.”

“Thanks.”

A half hour later, Oswald admired the sight of Clancy strung up by chains attached to his wrists. He hung from the ceiling, clear off the ground. He was still unconscious so he didn’t see the empty, gloomy cannery around him or smell the odor of stale fish. 

Oswald pushed Clancy’s chin up with the curved handle of his umbrella. He grinned savagely. “I’m going to enjoy this, flatfoot. By the time I’m finished with you there won’t be enough to bury.”

Suddenly, there was the sound of sirens and screeching tires just outside. Oswald stepped back and looked around wildly. “What’s that? What’s going on?”

Snares peeked out the window. “It’s the cops, Boss.”

Rockhopper was next to him. “A lot of ’em and they’ve got our car. Oh, man. That belongs to my uncle.”

Oswald rolled his eyes. “Your Uncle Louie is upstate. He’s not gonna care.”

“We’re surrounded,” Snares squeaked.

A slow smile crossed Oswald’s face. “Don’t lose heart, finks.” He pointed to Clancy. “We’ve still got an ace in the hole.”

Snares chewed his bottom lip. “But how did they find us?” 

Rockhopper nudged him. “Does it matter?”

Lieutenant Gordon’s voice came from a bullhorn. “This is the Gotham City Police. You’re surrounded. Put down your weapons and come out with your hands up.”

Oswald marched up to the window and shouted back, “I know you’ve been looking for O’Hara, Gordon. You must have found his empty car by now. Well, he’s here. You come any closer and you’ll have one dead copper on your hands.”

“You’re only making things worse on yourselves.”

Jack took that opportunity to slip in from a trapdoor at the opposite end of the cannery. It came from the river. He opened it just enough to roll three grenades along the floor towards Oswald and his finks.

Oswald was about to take a deep breath to shout at Gordon again when he started coughing. The room rapidly filled with purple smoke and he couldn’t see. He heard quick feet and a couple of thumps of something hitting the floor. He swiped out with his umbrella but didn’t hit anything.

Jack used his trusty knife on Rockhopper and Snares. The poor finks had no idea what hit them when he slashed their throats. He shoved Oswald in the back.

Oswald landed on his stomach hard. He scrambled onto his back. His eyes watered from the smoke but that didn’t stop him from seeing the knife point hovering between his eyes. He couldn’t see whoever was wielding it except for a purple glove. He froze.

“Forget that contract, Osy. The Falcones are all dead and it’s not worth the heat to kill two cops. Forget it or I’ll come back for you and I won’t spare you again,” a voice said with evil delight.

Oswald swallowed. He nodded quickly. “Okay, I’ll forget it.”

“Good boy.”

Oswald let out a breath of relief when the knife disappeared. However, he couldn’t dodge the fist headed straight for his face. It connected with his nose, the back of his head snapped back into the concrete floor, and he was out.

Jack found the lever to release the chains. He eased Clancy to the floor and freed his wrists. He dragged him to the trap door and dropped him to the small boat bobbing below.

Jack climbed down the ladder and closed the trap door just before the police broke down the cannery door. He dropped down onto the boat. He cackled and started the engine. “That was too easy.”

Jack took Clancy to one of his hide-outs that Clancy didn’t know about, an old house that used to belong to the gym teacher he hated. He carried Clancy inside and to the bedroom. He let out a put upon sigh. “I never told you because you’d never approve of how I got the old man to sign it over to me. I didn’t threaten him….Much.”

Jack put Clancy on the bed and settled him on his back. “And he’s living out his days at Shady Oaks. It’s really not a bad place.” He perched on the edge of the bed next to Clancy. He took his gloves off and gently felt the side of Clancy’s neck. “Your pulse is a little erratic but I’m not surprised. First, I dosed you and then Osy gassed you. It hasn’t been your day, has it?” He chuckled warmly and traced Clancy’s lips. “But I’m sure you’ll admit that mine was more fun.”

Jack trailed his fingertips down Clancy’s chin to his throat and then his chest. “And you don’t have to worry about Osy bothering you for a while and word will spread that the contract out on you is dead.”

Jack unbuttoned Clancy’s shirt, letting his fingertips brush against warm skin with each one. “Dead as those two finks. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to send them into the next life with a smile.” He spread the material to the sides to admire Clancy’s chest. “Me, you, a bed, and you just sleeping is a crime.”

“I would love to wake you but I know you wouldn’t be in the mood for fun and games anyway. So, I’ll just let you sleep it off.” Jack stood and stripped out of his clothes. He hung his new suit in the closet. He climbed on the bed and straddled Clancy’s hips. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have any fun.”

Jack ran his hands down Clancy’s chest. “Your body is a veritable battlefield of scars.” He leaned down to trail his lips over one of them. “This is from that street fight,” he murmured against the skin. “I think you were fifteen. The only reason you got involved was Nora begged you to save that idiot she wanted to marry. Did she ever marry him? I know she married someone but I thought it was a different guy. I’ll have to ask later. You know I’ve got no memory for names.”

Jack found another scar. “You got this one on Okinawa from that Jap who almost took my head off. I wish I could go back in time and give him a smile.”

Jack continued exploring with his lips and hands. His semi-hard cock was trapped between their bodies. He licked a long, nasty scar on Clancy’s stomach. “This was from when you chased down the Waynes’ killer. He managed to stab you and yet you head butted him and cuffed him to a drainpipe before you passed out. I may not like Gordon but I’ll always remember that he found you before you could bleed out.”

Jack licked his way back up Clancy’s torso. He licked and nipped at his neck before leaning close to his ear. “You think I’m crazy cause I think Gordon wants you. Why wouldn’t he?”

Jack nipped Clancy’s earlobe and then straightened back up. He brought one of Clancy’s wrists to his lips to kiss the new bruises there. He rocked against Clancy and stroked himself with his free hand.

Jack sucked one of Clancy’s fingers into his mouth. He stroked himself harder and faster. He released the finger only to nuzzle Clancy’s palm.

Jack pulled and squeezed himself roughly until he came. He threw his head back and let out a guttural moan as his cock jerked in his hand. His whole body tensed as the pleasure swept through him.

He fell off to the side and sprawled out next to Clancy. When he could finally move again, he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He ran his fingers through the mess on Clancy’s chest. He looked at Clancy’s face but the man hadn’t stirred. He grinned widely. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean you up and make sure you wake up in your own bed.”


End file.
